You Ain't No Saint
by Mattycollns13
Summary: Sequel to You Deserve Nothing and I Hope You Get Less. After TLC, Dean doesn't feel the rage he knows he will feel in a few days. He just feels tired and sore. It's a good thing he has a best friend that knows how he feels. It's just a bonus she has a six-pack of beer with her.


Dean was having a pretty shitty night. Not only had Becky lost, but also he wasn't able to comfort her because his match was directly after hers. That match hadn't gone very well for him either with that little shit James Ellsworth costing him the title letting AJ shimmy his bare ass to the top and claim it for himself. And to top it all off he couldn't find his jacket, so yeah, Dean was having a pretty bad night.

He stumbled, still a bit disoriented from his match, out of gorilla. Becky hadn't met him there like she usually did, but he expected as much after how she seemed to be feeling after her match. He'd only seen her for a second, but he'd kissed her forehead and told her simply, "No tears, Irish. You did good," before he had to head out for his own match. He checked their dressing room and saw both of their things still there, which meant Becky was still in the building somewhere.

He began to stagger through the hallways, searching for her, and would have missed her had her hair been any other color. It was lucky she insisted on safety hazard orange. She was sitting on the floor of an empty hallway, very much like the first time he found her almost a year ago now, when Paige had betrayed her and Charlotte. There was a six-pack of beers, bottles still in the case, sitting next to her as she leaned against the wall. She had his jacket draped over her shoulders, but her arms were out of the sleeves. The jacket was much too big for her, and she looked tiny with how wild her hair was and how big the jacket was on her smaller frame.

Dean finally wobbled over on unsteady legs. "You saved one for me right?"

She looked up and gave him a small smile. He was pleased to see no tear tracks on her face. She reached into the six-pack and handed him one of the bottles. He popped the cap on a nearby crate and clinked glasses with her before taking a greedy sip. They both sat in silence for a moment.

"It's been about a year since we became friends, kind of fitting we end up in some random hallway again."

Becky cracked a smile. "Yeah, can't believe I'm still letting you annoy me all these months later." She took another sip, her face turning serious. "My life hasn't been the same since then. You made me a better person, Dean. You made, and continue to make, my life better."

Dean felt his gut clench, a warm feeling surging through him. "Yeah, well you haven't been that bad either, Irish. You've made me soft and I'll never forgive you for that."

She bumped shoulders with him. "Don't forget, you found me wanting to dole out advice. It's your own fault."

He let her have that one. He had gone to search her out that night. Seeing something so similar in her that he felt he owed it to the universe to do something that was never offered to him when the Shield broke up. Someone to just be there. He simply took a sip and gave her a side eye. "My jacket looks good on you."

He saw her blush and grinned towards himself. She cleared her throat with another sip of beer. "Well, you couldn't be back here after my match and it made me feel close to you. God, I sound all co-dependent." She made a face, but Dean knew she was just teasing him.

"Well, we kind of are. I'm just glad that everyone else in our lives understands. Renee and Luke are pretty cool for that." He chuckled when she flushed happily at the mention of her boyfriend. That had been a fun meeting. "We are so co-dependent we had the same number of days on our first title reigns together."

She huffed a sad laugh that sounded like she was trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. She took another sip and let the silence drift over them again. Dean cleared his throat. "You still have your rematch at some point. You good?"

Becky glared at the opposite wall. "You told me, when you lost, that losing a title changes a person more than winning one does. I think I know what you mean. She is gonna see a different Becky Lynch next time, and I'm definitely gonna make her earn it."

Dean nudged her with his shoulder, trying to deflate her rage and sadness that he could see in her stiffening muscles. "Can't become a multi time champ if you never lose the belt. We are like cockroaches, can't be killed and will keep coming back. You'll be a two time champ before you know it."

She seemed to relax and gave him a thin smile, obviously thankful, but still feeling the effects of her loss. She tilted her head and let it rest on his sweaty shoulder. She let out another audible sigh before reaching for his hand and entangling their fingers. "Are you okay?"

He debated for a second on how to answer. "I will be. Eventually."

She nodded, accepting his answer, even though they both knew it was gonna be sad songs on the radio for the next couple of days for both of them, as they ate their feelings away with one another in their hotel rooms.

He sighed, "I really thought this was it. I had AJ's number. It's always something isn't it?"

Becky nodded. "When you come into this business you gotta know it's always going to push back. You work for the smallest amount of success and all the energy you expound to get there leaves you tired at the top so you get knocked down." He felt her shift on his shoulder, but she didn't raise her head. "But all the really good stories, the legends, are the people who kept getting back up and climbing to the top again and again. It's hard work, and moments like these are going to suck, but we'll be legends some day because of it."

He squeezed her hand; her words actually making him feel better. He hadn't even indicated that he needed that pep talk, but she somehow just knew he needed it. A year of intensely close friendship will do that to people. He was so glad he had her in his life.

She lifted her head up and gazed at him, searching his face thoroughly. "Now are you okay?"

To anyone else it sounded like the same question she had asked before, but the way her eyes gazed at him, he knew she meant his physical wellbeing. He gave her a small smile. "Just a bad tumble. Do I need to get out the video to show you how much I can take again?"

He saw her go a little green at the mention of the video. When he had been in CZW he'd taken a buzz saw to the forehead in one of his bloodiest matches. Becky had, somehow, found it and almost threw up while watching it. That had led to him explaining about the whole "Jon Moxley" thing which, to her credit, she took rather well being from the independent scene herself.

She shook her head furiously. "No, no, I believe you. You just scare me with stuff like that."

Dean grinned, "I'd tell you not to worry, but you always do anyway."

"It's my job as your best friend. A year in; you should be used to it by now."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I should but I'm glad I'm still not used to you, Irish. You're still special to me, and it surprises me that I have someone to care about me. I don't ever want to get used to it, because it feels really nice."

She gave him a small smile before finishing her beer, which he followed a moment later. He pushed himself up and offered her a hand. She took it and hauled herself up as well. They looked at each other for a second before letting go.

"Have you called Luke yet?"

She shook her head, bending down to grab the remaining beer. "No, I should go do that." She slipped off his jacket and handed it to him. "Renee?"

"Was gonna go find her after Talking Smack."

She nodded, beginning to turn away, but before she could he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in for a hug. She immediately burrowed into him and wrapped her arms around his waist, the glasses clinking in the carton box that held them. After a few second they both let go and smiled at one another. He cleared his throat. "Wanna get dinner on the way to the next town tonight?"

She nodded. "Make sure it's drive thru. I don't want to see or eat at any kind of table for a while." She gave him the grin she usually saved for her puns.

Dean huffed a laugh. "You and me both."

She turned her back and began to make her way off to call her boyfriend and pack her things so they could be ready to go, but before she got too far he shouted after her. "Irish!" She turned around and jumped as his jacket came flying at her. She gave him a confused look, but put the jacket back over her shoulders, gripping the front and pulling it over her like a parka. He gave her a small grateful smile. "Thanks."

She furrowed her brow in thought for a second, looking down at the floor, before her grin turned mischievous. She turned around and began walking, throwing a tiny wave back over her shoulder at him. "See you around, Ambrose."

Dean was halfway to see Renee when he realized they'd echoed the words of their first meeting, only reversed and he couldn't stop the dopey grin from taking over his face, despite his loss.


End file.
